


ode to akaashi keiji

by theglitterati



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: AKAASHI worship, Body Worship, Emotional Sex, Getting Together, M/M, and a dollop of Hand & Finger Kink, takes place immediately after the MSBY/Adlers game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:40:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27983208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theglitterati/pseuds/theglitterati
Summary: They had kissed before; dares in high school, games of chicken they had both won. The timing had never been right, between volleyball and Bokuto graduating and Akaashi going to university. It still wasn’t; they lived in different cities, had busy jobs and busier lives. But they had been dancing around this for seven years, and Bokuto was tired of dancing.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 17
Kudos: 294





	ode to akaashi keiji

**Author's Note:**

> happy birthday akaashi keiji, my muse, the light of my life

Bokuto slid his keycard into the reader. “This one’s mine.”

“You’re sure Hinata doesn’t mind?” 

“Nah, he said it was fine.” He opened the door and let Akaashi inside the hotel room. “I mean, he said it was fine for us to hang out here. I didn’t tell him what we were doing.”

Akaashi stood in the entryway, twisting his fingers. “What _are_ we doing?”

Bokuto smiled in response. “Want me to hang up your coat? It looks fancy.”

“Sure.” Akaashi removed it and his shoes and wandered further into the room. Bokuto hung it next to his own jacket, catching Akaashi’s scent on the fabric. He wanted to bury his face in it.

There were no chairs in the basic room. Bokuto found Akaashi sitting on his bed, back against the headboard. “This one’s yours, right?” More hand-wringing; he was nervous. Bokuto was nervous, too. “You always liked to sleep by the window.”

“Yeah, it’s mine.” Bokuto crossed the room, sitting next to Akaashi’s outstretched legs. They were so long, his pants a little too short like they always had been in high school. Bokuto ran a finger idly over the gap between his sock and the cuff of his pants.

“Bokuto-san?”

In the low light spilling through the window, Akaashi’s eyes were black as night. Bokuto caught a glint of teeth where his lips were parted, waiting. 

_“Akaashi,”_ he whispered. An invocation.

He kissed him hard, finding soft lips and softer hair where his hands tangled in it. Akaashi’s arms wrapped around him, pulling him down to meet his open mouth.

They had kissed before; dares in high school, games of chicken they had both won. The timing had never been right, between volleyball and Bokuto graduating and Akaashi going to university. It still wasn’t; they lived in different cities, had busy jobs and busier lives. But they had been dancing around this for seven years, and Bokuto was tired of dancing. When Akaashi shoved him against the side of the restaurant after dinner and kissed him with a question on his lips, Bokuto’s answer was a resounding _yes._

Now, when Akaashi spread his legs below him and wrapped a knee around his waist to drag him closer, Bokuto stilled. If he closed the gap between them, if he felt Akaashi’s warmth, he wouldn’t be able to stop. He wanted to savour this, not only for his sake but for Akaashi’s, who he wanted to spoil. He’d slow the clock, roll it back to when he should have done this years ago. Make it stop until he’d had his fill.

He lowered Akaashi’s legs and knelt between them as though at an altar. He reached for his glasses. “Can you still see me if I take these off?”

“Yes, you’re close enough.”

Bokuto set them on the bedside table. He kissed up Akaashi’s jaw to his ear and back down, following the elegant line of his neck until his sweater got in the way. He trailed his nose over the soft wool, down his arms to his hands.

Despite having entrusted his potential to these hands for years, he’d seldom touched them. He once thought himself jealous of Akaashi’s long fingers, so useful on the volleyball court. He knew now that the feeling was veneration. Bokuto lowered his mouth to them, kissing the back of each one in turn, flipping them over to kiss Akaashi’s palms, his wrists, the pads of his fingers. Akaashi gasped when he brought two of those fingers into his mouth and sucked.

He greedily drank in the pleasure on Akaashi’s face, the way it deepened when he pushed his fingers down against Bokuto’s tongue, drawing a moan from him. Bokuto nodded, encouraging him to do it again. He let him thrust them into his mouth, tasting the salt on his skin as he split the fingers with his tongue and mouthed at the webbing between them.

“Fuck, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi surged forward and captured his mouth, kissing him sloppily. His hands were everywhere, running over Bokuto’s shoulders and arms and scraping down his back, stopping only long enough to divest him of his shirt. Bokuto took the opportunity to get Akaashi out of that sweater, marvelling at the flushed skin below, the new curves and divots of a body he hadn’t seen since high school.

Akaashi did the same. “God, look at you.”

Bokuto smiled meekly. He knew from the increase in attention he got from others that his looks had improved in adulthood. Normally it flattered him, but under Akaashi’s gaze, he felt like he might burn up. He focused on Akaashi instead, tucked his face into the new softness of his stomach, ran his fingers over the jagged collarbones that had once kept him up at night.

“You’re beautiful, Keiji,” he said. This time, when Akaashi wrapped his legs around him, he didn’t resist.

They both let out a moan as their hips slotted together, their lengths aligning as they rolled against each other. They made quick work of shedding the rest of their clothes, eager to feel each other’s skin.

“Do you have lube?” Akaashi asked.

“In the drawer. Condoms, too.”

Akaashi hesitated. “I’m clean. You are too, right?”

“Yeah.” Akaashi would know if he wasn’t; he told him everything.

“Then I don’t want to use one. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, that's...” Bokuto let out a laugh. “Sorry if this is over kinda fast.”

“We’ll have plenty of time to try it again.” Bokuto had never heard sweeter words.

He spent that time opening Akaashi up carefully, with slicked up fingers and whispered words of encouragement. He didn’t stop until he was four fingers deep, Akaashi shaking and squirming on his hand. “Please, Bokuto-san, I’m ready.”

Bokuto removed his fingers and settled back between Akaashi’s legs, leaning over him. “Is this okay?” He reached out to touch Akaashi’s face. “I want— I want to see you.”

Akaashi nodded, his eyes shining in the dark. “Me too.”

That was all Bokuto needed to hear. He lined up with Akaashi’s entrance and gently pushed inside him.

Akaashi was warm, and wet, and had Bokuto not already worshipped him for years, the feeling alone would have made him a believer. He entered him slowly, studying every hitch in Akaashi’s breath, every gasp, until he was buried to the hilt.

“Is it too much?” Bokuto knew he was big, too big for some people, though Akaashi had had years to consider this.

“No, it’s perfect,” Akaashi said. “You feel perfect.”

They moved together, Bokuto thrusting down while Akaashi bucked up to meet him. They remembered the rhythms of each others’ bodies well; it was easy to adapt them to this new activity. Bokuto knew exactly how far he could stretch Akaashi’s legs over his shoulder. He understood when Akaashi needed it harder or faster or _right there,_ even when all he could say was _“fuck me, Bokuto-san.”_

He dropped Akaashi’s legs and bent forward, pressing their faces together. He was close, and he wanted to remember this. He slipped his hand between them and took Akaashi’s cock in hand.

“Oh god, Bokuto-san, fuck!” Bokuto worked him firmly, not letting up when he started to squirm. “I’m gonna come—”

“Please,” Bokuto said. “Akaashi, please.”

Akaashi spilled into his hand and Bokuto couldn’t help but follow, the tightness of him too much to bear. Bokuto came deep inside him, groaning and shaking as he filled him.

It was all Bokuto could do to keep from collapsing when he finished. The exhaustion of the game and his nerves caught up to him. What if he messed up? What if Akaashi wanted to leave? What if—

“Are you alright, Bokuto-san?” The concern in Akaashi’s eyes and the furrow of his brow were familiar. He’d asked him the same question a thousand times before. Everything had changed but this: Akaashi would always be there for him.

Bokuto laughed, a happy sound that filled the dark room. “I’m great!” 

He wiped himself off hastily in the bathroom and wet a towel to clean Akaashi up with. He took his time, dressing Akaashi in his own boxers and Black Jackal tshirt when he was done.

Under the covers, he tucked Akaashi into his side. With his back to Bokuto’s chest, he was in the perfect spot for Bokuto to bury his face in his hair, inhaling the smell of his shampoo and the hint of spice that was uniquely Akaashi. He breathed in and out steadily, feeling calmer than he had in years.

“I’m in love with you, Keiji,” he said. “I hope that’s not too weird to say.”

“It’s not,” Akaashi said softly. “I’ve loved you since the day I met you. I wasn’t always sure in what way— in what way I was allowed to—”

“Every way,” Bokuto said. “All the ways.”

Akaashi chuckled. “That’s much clearer, after tonight.” He paused to take Bokuto’s hand, intertwining their fingers. “I’d like to continue finding new ways to love you, if you’ll let me.”

“Of course.” Bokuto’s eyes were wet; he wondered if Akaashi’s were, too.

“Good. And Bo— Koutarou?”

Bokuto’s breath caught. “Yeah?”

“I think you’re beautiful, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> As always, you can find me at kyrstin.tumblr.com!


End file.
